A World Without End
by problemhunter
Summary: It is a beautiful day, and Takumi is dying. Souma/Takumi/Isami (slash/incest/polygamy)


**A World Without End**

 **Summary:** It is a beautiful day, and Takumi is dying.

 **Pairing/s:** Souma/Takumi, Isami/Takumi

 **Warning/s** : slash, incest, polygamy (and angst written by an amateur ;_;)

 **A/N:** I'm going to try writing SouTaku fluff next; these dorks aren't meant for angst.

* * *

 **Death is a leeway from wickedness, for he will drag his sins and secrets to Hell with him**

It is a beautiful day, and Takumi is dying.

He holds onto his twin brother's hand, a tight grip of physical contact to remind him that _yes, this is real and he's not left behind_. But Takumi wonders not for the first time if Isami's simply acting, waiting for the time the fire in Takumi would die and fade away so that the remaining _better_ brother can step away from the blonde's shadows and become his own light.

And he would burn brighter than Takumi, and all those that neared him would burn and fade, too, like dusky moths that searched for reassurance that _everything's okay and they are okay._

Perhaps, in another life, Takumi would become a moth to Isami's light.

But he wouldn't mind, not when he was the dark simply parading around in bright vibrant colors of yellow, white and blue. Not like this. _Never like this._

 _He felt forbidden things for his brother and he was better off dead, anyway._

* * *

 **Perfection is but a mask, and he shall attain it, for his evils are a burden that are his and his alone**

Isami strived to become better, better than his _bestest_ _greatest_ brother because he wanted to hide such a beautiful thing in his too long limbs from a world without end – a broken player that only knows how to repeat reminders of hurt, ache and longing. His brother was simply too precious for that.

He would lead an army head on if it meant keeping Takumi safe. And he cannot _fail_ , _he can never ever_ fail because failure meant pain, and he didn't want to see those eyes the color of the sky – so much like his own, Isami muses, but far more pure and untouched and _alive_ – worrying for Isami because he wasn't worthy of his love, not when he harbors a love so unlike his brother's.

Isami cannot fall in love with his not-look-alike twin because it is a sin, evil and disgusting.

But he did, anyway, and he wouldn't want to mar his beautiful chaste brother with something _so_ _wicked,_ a love like his _._

So he would hide behind a mask of calm with his grinning and laughing – and _it would be so easy, because Takumi is such a dork that he finds himself wanting to protect that smile because wow, it feels so good seeing himself like that._

And he would lead an army for his brother, his friend, his _love_. Or die trying.

* * *

 **And he shall become detached, for he is much too scared to love, much too insecure for love**

Souma can never take Takumi seriously, no, not when it meant having to confront a bothersome feeling such as _love_.

The only experience the redhead has with love is cooking, but that didn't count, did it? No, of course not. Cooking didn't make him feel horny, didn't make him feel all weird inside and made his heart dance a wild rhythm of _thump thump ba-thump_ and didn't make him feel such an overwhelming urge to kiss the blonde senseless and decorate him with lots and lots of bite marks that marked him _his_ , that made him Souma's most treasured person _and he was his, only his_.

And he knows he's not the only one.

"Did you see Takumi-kun today?"

"Yeah. Quite hard not to, with a face as pretty as that."

"Heh, and a cute butt to match!" Laughter rang from the room, half-lewd, half-wistful. It was always the same; people pinning for things they could never have, people pinning for those they could never hold close, always ending up hurt if they pushed the feelings too far.

From dark corners to cubicles and gym lockers, Yukihira Souma knows he's not the only one.

* * *

 **And he is damned twice for a feeling he cannot control, for his love belongs to two men far beyond his reach**

The first time Takumi sees Souma, it's his hair that captures his attention. It was such a beautiful red that looked like the setting sun against the blue of Takumi's eyes, so much like the color of blood that coats his sinful heart that beats only for his brother Isami that it sends a painful tug to his being.

Because the first time Takumi sees Souma is the second time he falls in love. And it was _wrong_ because according to the books and legends and songs that were sung to the world long before his birth, _you_ ca _nnot fall in love with two people at the same time_.

Then again, you weren't supposed to be having incestuous feelings for your twin brother.

But it was unfair, really, to want someone that barely gives you the time of his day. He honestly didn't think his beating organ littered with invisible scars and bruises could handle any more pain, because _it hurt, dammit,_ and all Takumi ever wanted was for someone to _care_ – the kind of care his Mother told him grand stories about, the one that defied _every single thing because love does wonders_ when she was tucking her son to sleep.

Perhaps his Mother lulled him to dreamland with mere sweet nothings, but Takumi wanted to make them a reality. Then again, they are illusions and the world that he lives in is real. Dreams don't last forever. But when they do, the world isn't dead.

It's him.

* * *

 **They decided to take a chance in a World Without End for surely a love as pure as theirs cannot, c** _ **an never be evil**_

 _ **Perhaps Hell is good, for their sin is beautiful**_

Takumi drowns himself in the rain as they rush past him in an onslaught of freedom, his heart going out to these drops of tears that Heaven showers the world with – _do angels cry?_ – and for the first time in a long while, he feels welcome. He is not alone because everyone lives under the same sky and –

– and he _is_ alone because the sky that he knows is Isumi's sky and the determination for improvement is shared with that stupid annoying Yukihira with that stupid annoying smile that he can never call _his_ , can never be his.

And to Takumi's shock and horror, his eyes grow heavy with clouds and it _rains_.

He weeps with the world for an innocence loss to the cruel winds.

* * *

 **The truth feels so wrong – but** _ **so right**_ **, because they know that it** _ **is**_ **right and their beliefs are simply contradicting them – that perhaps it's what's real**

Souma meanwhile gathers the courage to _try_ , because even in his dreams the face of Takumi haunts him. It is always there, constantly lurking around and he cannot and will not get the blonde out of his head because there was something simply _so_ _right_ about it and Soma can never bring it in himself to push him away, not when he couldn't see Takumi in the flesh to remind him that this is what he should do, that this was right.

So he stalks the night with awkward shuffles before he reaches Takumi's apartment – and Isami's, he remembers – and rings the doorbell, fidgeting with his umbrella and waits with the _drip drip_ and _pitter patter_ keeping him company.

Light peeks underneath the door and Souma leans forward in anticipation and it's not Takumi but Isami and the words that was creeping from his throat and out into the open is fleeing because _it's not Takumi._

Isami's knuckles are white as they grip the wooden slab and he knows, _Soma knows_ , Takumi Aldini is not there.

When the beautiful boy returns, the floorboards creaking as the sole of his shoes trudges inside the room warmed by fire – _so familiar yet infinitely foreign because their sun is Takumi, not_ this– the two of them practically shoot upright and bombard him with questions.

Takumi at first is confused but immediately flusters, Souma and Isami's shouting flying over his pretty head, distracted by unspoken thoughts of _how happy he is that the boys that he loves are there, and they do care, even if it wasn't the kind of care he wanted._

The blonde blue-eyed bombshell vaguely hears his brother asking him if he's okay, because his face is red and did he catch a cold from the rain?

And Takumi, living up to his name of 'dork', answers. "Of course I'm fine, Isami! Because the boys I'm in love with care enough to worry about me!"

He beams, and Souma gawks while his sibling blinks, dumfounded. He just confessed that… wait, what? _He did not just say that, did he?!_

But he did, and the blonde gives a gasp of his own. "E-err, I mean, the boys that I love _as a friend and brother_ because, y'know, even if I _did_ love the two of you, I totally would _not_ tell the either one of you and… um, yeah?" But the truth is out, and they will be – _no_ , they _are_ disgusted by him.

Takumi scrunched his face because he thinks he's going to cry _and he's pretty sure he's going to cry_ and a sniffle or two escapes him. He burieshis face on trembling palms and is caressed by calloused hands that are not his and feels chapped lips warm his own and too long limbs wrap around his back, and it's okay, they're okay.

Apples bloom on Takumi's cheeks, and Isami and Souma's fates are sealed.

 _Maybe their love is not as hopeless as it seems. And they'll make it work. Somehow._

* * *

 **A/N** : Just to let you know, I am aware that the term 'bestest' isn't really correct. But it sounded somewhat fitting here- or, at least it did for _me_. So I won't remove it. Also, reviews (especially criticisms) are welcome, because this is the first time I've written a story (or a series of angsty dabbles) _seriously_. It's not mostly made up of dialogues (which is my forte, and there's barely any here) but I really wanted to write a slash story for the fandom. I do hope that you'd enjoy this. Like I said, I'm going to work on pure SouTaku fluff next (and probably a poor attempt at writing lemons, lol).


End file.
